You're gonna burn
Ah look at me, guilty
Soak my circuit
Burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn
"Damn but they keep doing that," Jean said as the lights flickered back on. "They need to get better wiring."
"That wasn't you?" Sam asked.
"What? No, of course not." Jean frowned. "Well that was lousy timing, wasn't it?"
"You want to tell us what's going on?" Dean demanded, keeping the gun he had pulled out during the brief blackout trained on Jean.
Jean looked over at him, eyes widening in surprise when he saw the gun. "There's no need for that, is there? I haven't done anything to harm you."
"Yeah, tell that to the three dead guys," Dean said.
"What? I – oh. Yes, of course. I hadn't thought–" Jean shook his head. "I didn't kill those men. I didn't."
"Then why'd you pretend to be Aaron Warner?" Sam asked.
"I didn't want you to know who I was. Who she was." Jean bent down to retrieve the picture that Dean had let fall to the ground, absently placing it on the desk before glancing away. "I thought you might…"
"The vague thing is really not helping your case," Dean told him.
When Jean didn't answer, Sam said softly, "You thought we'd think it was Josette."
"Yes," Jean said quietly, looking ashamed. "God help me for even thinking it."
"So you're saying she's the one doing this?" Dean asked.
"No!" Jean denied vehemently. "She's not responsible for this. I just knew how it would appear."
"I'll tell you how it appears," Dean said. "It appears that you're a dead guy who's already lied to keep us off his trail. Why should we believe you?"
Jean looked slightly troubled. "Yes, yes, you're right. I haven't given–" Suddenly he paused, eyes lighting up a bit. "You're right. I killed those men. I – I'm just angry, and violent and evil."
Dean frowned. "What is this, reverse psychology?"
Jean looked frustrated. "No, I'm guilty, all right? Do your job and get out." He closed his eyes, waiting.
Dean and Sam glanced at each other. Dean shrugged and lowered his gun, but only slightly.
"Why did you think we'd blame Josette?" Sam asked.
Jean opened his eyes and he remained silent for a moment before saying, "When she got sick, it was bad. I was scared for her, the doctors couldn't even…She just wasn't getting better. I asked her, just in case, what she wanted to do with her part of the mill. She got angry and I dropped it, but then it got worse…I shouldn't have pushed so hard. She wasn't herself, she – she said I was trying to kill her. And then…" He paused, his voice getting softer. "She began speaking to the devil. She swore she would leave the mill to him if she died."
"But she got better, right?" Sam questioned.
"Yes," Jean replied. "But she, she wasn't the same. She always thought it was me. She's my sister. I love her. I don't understand how she thought I could have hurt her." He shook his head. "It was the illness. She had such a high fever, they said it damaged her mind. She hated me after that. Said she'd do whatever it took to make sure she got revenge." His eyes closed again. "My sister died thinking I killed her."
Sam and Dean looked at each other again.
"All of the victims did have older sisters," Sam said.
Jean's eyes snapped open. "It can't be her. Whatever happened between us at the end, Josie would never hurt an innocent person."
"Jean, whatever's out there isn't your sister," Sam told him. "What she was like just before she died, becoming a spirit would just make that worse. Most spirits, well, they don't really care about reality. They see whatever they want to see."
"Uh-huh," Dean said, impatient with Sam's attempt at explaining. "What I don't get is why she's doing it now. It's been two hundred years and nothing. Why now? You do something to set her off?"
Jean looked at the floor. "I started looking for her again. Back when it first happened, when I realized what I was, I knew I was still here because I needed her to know I loved her. I tried to find her, but I only got glimpses. She didn't want me finding her." He sighed. "She probably thought I wanted her stone."
"Her stone?" Dean asked.
"We had two grind stones. After she died, and the fire burned out half of our home, we only found one stone. People said it was the devil taking what she left to him, but I always thought she took it to keep me from having it." Jean glanced at Josette's picture. "I gave up after awhile. I thought, maybe she'd come looking for me. But she didn't. So I started again."
"How long ago was that?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. A month? Two?" Jean replied. "Sometimes it's hard to keep track of time."
"So your start trying to find her again, she gets pissed and starts killing people to warn you off. Or maybe she's just completely gone nuts and thinks she's killing you." Dean shrugged. "Either way, she's toast." He turned towards Jean. "Was she buried or cremated?"
"Buried," Jean replied. "But I–"
"Do you know where?" Dean asked.
"Of course," Jean said with a frown. "I'm her brother, I arranged the funeral. I don't und–"
"We need to know where she's buried, Jean," Sam told him gently. "You know as well as we do that she's the one doing this. Otherwise you wouldn't have tried to send us in the wrong direction." Sam paused, frowning. "How did you know what we were?"
Jean smiled a bit sadly. "I've been dead for two hundred years. I've seen hunters pass through here before. They never bothered Josie or me, because we never did anything to disturb them or attract their attention. But when people started dying like that, poisoned like she thought I did, I knew someone would come looking. Aaron was on vacation, so I stayed here, waiting for someone to ask questions."
"What if we were just regular tourists?" Dean asked.
Jean's smile turned slightly amused. "Two men in their twenties who decide the historical society is the must see place in town? I figured it had to be you. And if it wasn't, well, it didn't really matter. I've had a long time to practice appearing human."
"Yeah, about that," Dean said. "How'd you manage to last two hundred years as a spirit without going completely insane?"
Jean shrugged. "She's my sister. I couldn't let her think that about me. When things get bad, I remember her."
"Yeah, well, she's not your sister anymore," Dean said. "She's something dark and twisted and evil. And she's killing innocent people. We're going to stop it."
"She's my sister," Jean said again, tone pleading.
"Jean, think about it," Sam told him. "You said it yourself, your sister would never hurt someone like that."
"She wouldn't," Jean said, reaching over and taking the picture off of the desk. He stared at it, eyes glossy and far away as he continued, "She's always been so selfless. When the love of my life died, Josie was there for me. She moved to America with me, she would have done anything for me. She loved to cook, she used to make meals for anyone who asked, or needed it, and she never wanted anything in return. She – she wouldn't want people to be hurt. And she wouldn't want me to do nothing about it."
"Great," Dean said, too quickly, pretending that he hadn't been at all affected by what Jean had said about his older sister. "Let's go then."
Jean blinked. "Now?"
"Yeah, now. Or we could give it another night to get someone else killed," Dean said.
Jean flushed slightly. "I see your point. All right. It's a small plot, close to the lake. I can take you there."
The sun was almost done setting as they walked out to the car. Dean and Sam climbed into the driver and passenger sides, respectively, while Jean slid into the backseat without even opening the door.
"Dude," Dean said. "That's just wrong. You better not have messed up my door with your ghost ectoplasm."
Jean looked somewhat contrite. "My apologies. I'll use the door next time."
Dean shook his head. "Man, the last time a ghost was in my car, it stopped working. And before that, it got driven into a house." He looked over at Sam. "Although that last one was really your fault."
"Got the job done, didn't it?" Sam muttered.
Some amusement peaked through Jean's solemnity. "I promise I'll do my best to not make your car crash."
"Good," Dean said, starting up the car. "Which way am I heading?"
Jean gave them directions to a picnic area near Lake St. Clair, where Dean parked the car and they headed into the forest on foot.
"What exactly are you going to do?" Jean asked, glancing at the shovels and duffel bag that Dean and Sam were carrying.
"I thought you knew about us," Dean said.
"I know there are hunters. I don't know exactly what they do," Jean replied. "I was never inclined to interact with them much. I usually keep my distance."
"So glad you decided to change your routine for us," Dean muttered.
Sam ignored his comment and told Jean, "Yeah, that was probably smart. We, uh, we have to salt and burn her bones. We don't really know what happens after that."
"We just know it gets rid of them," Dean said. "Keeps them from hurting more people."
Jean frowned, looking troubled, but he didn't say anything more as they continued on. Soon they reached a small, slightly overgrown clearing. Jean walked over to a patch of ivy and pushed it away, revealing a pair of crumbling headstones.
"They've been forgotten," Jean said. "But I make sure no one disturbs them. This one is Josie's."
"Whose is that one?" Dean asked.
"Mine," Jean replied softly. "This was our family plot. But the family never made it past Josie and I."
"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "We better get started." He dropped the duffel bag to the ground.
Working together, Sam and Dean quickly reached the rotting wooden coffin. Dean broke it open with his shovel and the two stared down at the skeleton and decaying strips of fabric inside.
"Yahtzee," Dean commented. "You take salt and I'll do the gas?"
Jean shifted his weight, then blurted, "I can't do this. Do you guys think you can find your way back?"
"I think we'll manage," Dean said.
"I'm sorry," Jean said. "And I'm sorry I tried to trick you."
"Thank you for your help, Jean," Sam told him.
Jean ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm the one who should be thanking you. I, well. Once she's gone, there won't be a reason for me to stay. I don't think I'll be seeing you again." He flushed, looking down. "So, thank you." He abruptly faded out.
Dean waited for a moment, then said, "Okay, I feel better now. That was just creepy."
"He seemed like a nice guy," Sam protested.
"He was a dead guy, Sam. I don't care how nice he was, it was still creepy." Dean shuddered. "Evil crazy sons of bitches I can handle. These almost human ones, they're something else."
"You just don't like it when things stop being black and white," Sam said.
"Thing stopped being black and white awhile ago, Sam," Dean replied angrily. "What do you want me to do, tell you it doesn't bother me when I see those things? It goes against the way we were raised. Psychics or whatever, like Missouri or–" He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and Sam just knew he had been about to say 'you'. "– that new agey Wiccan chick in Santa Cruz, okay. I can deal. But the rest of them, man, they're evil. They've always been evil. So excuse me if I find it hard to take."
"Dean, you know I–" Sam started.
Dean waved him off. "Yeah, dude, I know. Let's just burn this bitch and get it over with."
They dumped salt and gasoline on the bones, then Sam lit a match and dropped it into the hole.
"So long, Josie," Dean told the burning corpse as they watched the fire. Then he grinned. "Man, this is something I never get tired of."
"Pyro," Sam teased.
"Damn right," Dean said proudly. "Come on, you're telling me this isn't at all awesome."
"Okay, maybe it is kind of cool," Sam admitted.
They stared in silence for awhile, then Sam glanced sideways at his brother. "Dean. I'm sorry."
"Shut up and watch the fire," Dean muttered.
"You think we should tell Phoebe and Paige that we saw them again?" Pru asked.
"No way," Piper replied. "Phoebe will just bug us to tell her how hot they are and Paige will yell at us for talking to them again."
"And then tell us that if we get to hitch rides with strange men and exchange numbers with them, then so does she," Pru agreed. "Okay, we won't mention it. I doubt it'll come up again, anyway."
"I dunno, maybe we should call them," Piper teased with a grin. "They were cute."
"Hell yes." Pru grinned back. "Way too damn pretty." She paused. "I think they were gay, though."
"Yeah, probably," Piper said. "The irony gods do like taunting us like that. It's just as well. Phoebe'd just spend the whole night trying to flirt with them. It's probably best to keep her away."
Pru laughed. "Maybe we could distract her with free alcohol and another random hot guy."
"Maybe," Piper said. "But it's not worth the risk."
"Yeah, you're right," Pru told her as they stopped in front of the VW, smiling as she saw 'Crawler peek his head briefly over the steering wheel.
"What's she right about?" Paige asked, leaning out the passenger door window.
"Everything," Piper replied, sliding open the ride side door and climbing in.
"Sure," Phoebe commented sarcastically from the seat next to her. "Did you bring me my coffee?"
"I did, but you don't get it now," Piper informed her.
"Oh, come on," Phoebe pleaded.
"You better give it to her," Pru said, handing Paige her coffee through the window before going around to the driver's side. "No one wants to see Phoebe without her caffeine."
"Oh, all right," Piper said, passing Phoebe one of the cups of coffee. "But only because I have to sit in back with you."
"I love you too," Phoebe muttered teasingly as she sipped at her coffee. "So what first? Research or interviews?"
"We should do interviews first," Paige suggested. "Hopefully it'll give us more to go on."
"Interviews it is," Pru agreed, starting up the VW and turning up the radio. "Into the distance, a ribbon of black, stretched to the point of no turning back."
"There's three families to talk to, so we should probably split up," Piper said after awhile, and Pru stopped singing along to listen. "I'll take the Simons."
"I'll take Mrs. Gerard," Pru said.
"Looks like we get Emery Kyle's sister," Paige told Phoebe.
"What are we going as?" Phoebe asked.
"I called the EPA, pretending to be a resident, to see what they were planning on doing about the problem, and they said they didn't feel it warranted investigation," Pru said. "So we're safe for EPA. Either that or state police, probably."
"State police," Phoebe said. "More credible."
"You just like the badge," Paige teased.
"If we're doing police, Pheebes, you better change," Piper told her.
Phoebe frowned. "I don't see why I can never wear what I want during interviews."
"Because in the real world, figures of authority don't wear peasant blouses and mini-skirts," Piper replied.
"Well they should," Phoebe grumbled, but she gently pushed Bagirah out of her lap, climbed over her seat into the back of the car and began rifling through her duffel bag.
"Haha, I don't have to change," Paige commented cheerfully. "I win."
"She should have realized when you left off the make up this morning," Piper said.
"And anything with fishnet," Pru added.
"And the gloves! I kept the boots though." Paige pulled up the legs of her jeans to reveal one black combat boot and one purple one.
"Are you sure you even own socially acceptable clothes?" Pru called teasingly to Phoebe.
"With the amount of clothes she has? Of course she does," Piper said.
"Oh, shut up," Phoebe said as she climbed back over the seat, now dressed in jeans and a zipped up black jacket. "What is this, pick on Phoebe day?"
"Every day is pick on Phoebe day, sweetie," Piper informed her.
Phoebe stuck out her tongue. "Gimme back my coffee." She snatched it from Piper's hand.
"Better drink it fast, Pheebes, we're here," Pru said as she parked the car in one of the visitor's spaces.
Phoebe tipped back the cup, swallowing the last few gulps of her now lukewarm coffee. "Done."
Pru opened the windows most of the way for 'Crawler, Taliesan, and Bagirah, who had to wait in the car, then reached under her seat and pulled out a beige box. Inside were four neat rows of various identification cards. While she selected the right IDs, Paige pulled a similar box from her the passenger seat, although this one was full of badges. Once they all had the proper identification, the women split up and headed off to their respective interviews.
Piper straightened her ponytail as she knocked on the door to the Simons' trailer and put on her best friendly-yet-authoritative face. In a few moments, a young woman who looked a few years younger than her own age answered the door with a sad, lonely look in her eyes.
"Are you Kaylie Simon?" Piper asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"I'm Officer Rachel Berenson with the state police," Piper said, holding up her ID and badge. "Are your parents home?"
"No, ma'am, I'm sorry, but they're still in Venice," Kaylie said quietly. "I know I said they'd be home for the funeral, but they got held up."
"Do you expect them back any time soon?" Piper asked.
Kaylie hesitated, then shook her head. "No, most likely not. It's just been me and Jeff for awhile now."
Piper felt a stab of sympathy for the girl, who suddenly seemed a bit older than she really was. "Do you mind if I come in and ask you a few questions, then?"
"No, not at all," Kaylie said, gesturing her inside and to the kitchen table. "Anything to find out what happened to Jeff. Can I get you something?"
"No, thank you," Piper said, sitting down.
Kaylie sat down across from her, nervously twirling strands of her dark brown hair around her fingers. "I already spoke with the county police."
"Yes, I know. Thank you for making time to talk to me, too," Piper said. "Some of the questions may be similar, but we're required to approach the investigation with a blank slate. It makes it easier to form unbiased interpretations."
Kaylie nodded and they went through the standard health conditions, enemies, history of mental illness, suspected amount of exposure to possible toxic materials, things in common with the other deceased, and anything unusual the days leading up to Jeff's death.
"I wasn't in town the night…the night it happened," Kaylie said. "I was visiting friends in Detroit. Maybe if I…" she trailed off, but before Piper could say anything, continued with, "I was here when Emery died, though. I saw him before it happened. I, I don't think I mentioned that to the other officer." Kaylie colored slightly. "Men, uhm, make me nervous. Especially…"
"Attractive ones?" Piper supplied, offering the girl a friendly, understanding smile.
"Yeah," Kaylie said, warming to her a bit. "The detective who talked to me earlier, he was okay. But the agent the EPA sent, he was…wow. He asked me about that specifically, which was why I remembered for him. I guess he talked to Liv and Millie first."
"You spoke with an EPA agent?" Piper asked.
Kaylie nodded. "He came by yesterday. Why?"
"Last I heard, the EPA didn't think this was worth investigating. I guess they changed their minds." Piper shrugged. "They don't always tell us everything. So what did you see the night Emery died?"
"Lucy, that's their dog, was barking. She doesn't bark too often, so I went out to see if anything was wrong," Kaylie said. "Emery was already out there taking care of her. I don't know what was making her bark. I didn't see anyone out there. But…"
"But?" Piper prompted encouragingly.
"It was really cold out," Kaylie said. "I mean, I know it's Grosse Pointe, but it's summer, and earlier it had been kind of warm. When I went out then, it was freezing. And something just felt…wrong. Like something strange was out there, watching us." She shook her head. "I sound stupid."
"No you don't," Piper assured her. "Every little bit helps." She smiled at her, then said, "Well, that's everything. Thank you for talking to me."
"Oh, um, of course," Kaylie said, standing up to show Piper out. "Listen, um, if you find out anything, will you call me? Please? No matter what…what it was?"
Piper started to say something noncommittal, but something in Kaylie's eyes made her change her mind. "Okay. And if you remember anything else, give me a call?" She handed her a business card with Rachel Berenson's name, and her own cell number.
"I will. And thank you," Kaylie said, tears briefly flooding her eyes.
Piper nodded, then headed back to the car to meet up with her sisters. Pru was already there, leaning against the car with her head halfway through the open driver's side window and chatting cheerfully with what seemed like nothing. Piper grinned, knowing 'Crawler was most likely just out of sight.
"You know, it's probably not a good sign when a member of the state police is out here talking to herself," Piper teased as she walked over.
Pru grinned at her. "Shut up. There's no one out here, anyway. You find anything out?"
"Oh, yeah," Piper replied. "Kaylie Simon saw Emery Kyle right before he died. She said it felt weird, really cold and like she was being watched. And, Emery had his dog with him, barking at something no one else could see."
Pru's eyes lit up. "Much better than anything I got. Let's hope the dog feels like talking. You get a name?"
"Lucy," Piper said as they started walking back towards the Kyles' trailer. "Should we wait to see if Paige and Phoebe learned anything?"
"Yeah, probably," Pru said. "They might know something that'll help with questioning."
"They better not take too long," Piper grumbled.
Fortunately, they only had a few minutes of standing in the street close to the trailer when Paige and Phoebe came out.
"Hey guys," Paige greeted cheerfully. "Guess what?"
"They Kyles have a dog?" Piper guessed.
Phoebe frowned. "No fair. Did Kaylie tell you she was there?"
"Yeah," Piper said, grinning. "What else did you guys find out?"
"Not much," Paige said. "Just that there doesn't seem to be any normal reason for Emery's death."
"Okie-dokie, guess I'll see if Lucy knows anything we don't," Pru said, then fell silent as she telepathically contacted the dog.
"So you think it's paranormal, then?" Phoebe asked Paige.
Paige nodded. "Maybe it's a bit too soon to say for sure, but no health issues, no reason for anyone to kill him? And the police can't figure out a definite cause of death?" She shrugged. "It's either supernatural or the best serial killer ever."
"You forgot the dog thing," Piper added. "Oh, plus Kaylie said it was really cold that night and she thought something was there." She frowned. "She also said she spoke with an EPA agent."
"Yeah, Emery's sister and girlfriend said two of them stopped by to ask questions, too. Really similar to our questions, apparently, his girlfriend was irritated at having to answer them again," Phoebe said.
"Huh," Piper commented. "You think there's someone else looking into this?"
"Another hunter? I doubt it," Phoebe said. "It's not like we haven't been lied to before. The EPA probably doesn't want the public to know they're investigating."
"Things like that can cause panic," Paige agreed. "They're probably afraid people will start boycotting the water or something."
"Yeah, probably," Piper said. Still, though, part of her couldn't help but wonder. Maybe she'd ask Pru what she thought later.
"I felt so bad for Emery's sister," Phoebe said. "It was like half the time she wasn't even there."
"Kaylie too," Piper said. "Her parents didn't seem to be in the picture much."
"Well," Pru said suddenly, interrupting the conversation. "I think it's definitely supernatural."
"Lucy saw something?" Phoebe asked.
"She saw enough," Pru replied. "She's scared and confused, so her mind was jumbled. I calmed her down as best as I could, but…I think she'll be okay, though." She paused and glanced around. "Come on, I'll tell you in the car. We've probably been standing in the street long enough."
Pru explained what she got from Lucy on the way to the library. Once they arrived, they split up once again to try and find anything that fit what the dog had seen. Paige tackled the history books, Phoebe looked into local legends (which including chatting with the other library patrons) and Piper and Pru hit the old newspapers.
"The nightgown looked like it was late eighteenth or nineteenth century," Pru said as she and Piper sat down at the computer. "Or maybe early twentieth. Lucy's memory was fuzzy. And she wasn't exactly focused on clothes at the time."
Piper nodded. "Well, the paper doesn't start until the eighteen hundreds. So I'll start there, and you can work backwards from the early nineteen hundreds."
"And meet in the middle," Pru agreed.
They started searching through the articles. After an hour or so, Phoebe gave up finding anything by talking to the people there and joined them, looking into the mid nineteen hundreds, just in case.
At a little after six pm, Phoebe pushed back her chair. "Well, I've found nothing and I'm starving. I say we break for dinner. Anyone else hungry?"
"I'm always hungry," Piper replied. "Just let me finish this and we'll go find Paige."
After a few minutes, Piper said, "Hey, guys, look at this. The parts about Jean and Josette LeBlanc."
The other two leaned in, then Pru grinned. "I think this might be it. It definitely fits what Lucy saw. And the mill burning on Windmill Pointe?"
"Good job," Phoebe said cheerfully. "Let's got get Paige and tell her over food."
"Fresh eyes would be a good thing," Pru agreed. "We can start grave searching when we get back."
There was a diner close to the library, so rather than waste gas driving, they walked down to the restaurant. They ate quickly, then headed straight back to the library and picked up their search. Several hours later, Pru sighed.
"Okay, I've got an idea. We can't seem to find the grave, so maybe we should look for the stones," Pru suggested.
"The stones?" Phoebe asked.
"Yeah," Pru said. "Spirits can attach themselves to things besides their bodies, remember? And the whole thing was caused over ownership of the mill, which basically means the grind stones. And, after the fire, one of them was never found."
"Makes sense," Paige said. "But even if we do get rid of these stones, we'll still have to take care of the body."
"Yeah, but it'll give us something to do," Piper said. "Well, two of us, anyway. The other two should stay here and try to find the grave and the other stone. The one they found is on display at the Grosse Pointe War Memorial. We can go take care of that right now."
Phoebe looked at the other three and asked, "Straws?"
"Straws," Paige agreed, pulling two long sticks and two short sticks out of her backpack. She held them in one fist so no one could tell which was which and said, "Short straws stay behind."
Phoebe drew first and got a short straw, while both Pru and Piper got long ones.
"Damn," Paige commented. "My eyes are getting blurry."
"Tell you what," Pru said. "If you guys haven't found anything by the time Piper and I get back, we'll call it a night and pick things up in the morning."
"Okay," Phoebe said reluctantly. "But you better hurry your asses up."
Piper and Pru grinned at each other, then headed out to the car where their familiars were waiting. When Piper opened the passenger door, Bagirah darted out of the car and snuck into the library, probably to keep Phoebe company. Piper shrugged and climbed into the car.
"How are we supposed to burn a giant rock, anyway?" Piper asked as they drove towards the memorial.
"Uh," Pru said intelligently. "Smash it to a powder and burn that? Oh, except we don't have a sledgehammer."
"What happened to the one we used to break through the concrete around that psycho's coffin in Iowa?" Piper asked.
"That was Don, the warehouse manager's. We had to give it back," Pru replied.
"Oh. Well, we could buy a new one," Piper suggested. "I'm sure there's a twenty-four hour K-mart around here somewhere. But if we start pounding the hell out of it, we're gonna lose some pieces. We won't be able to get rid of the whole thing."
"Good point," Pru said, considering. "Okay, how about we put the stone in a cloth bag, smash it up, dump in some salt, and then burn the whole thing?"
Piper grinned. "Sounds good to me. Let's go get ourselves a bag and some sledgehammers."
They managed to find a store that was still open and bought what they needed. Then they parked the car a bit away from the memorial and walked the rest of the way with just the bag. It was relatively easy to sneak in, locate the stone, and get it in the bag, but then came the hard part of getting the heavy stone out. They carried it between them, doing their best to keep to the shadows.
"I am so glad it's past one in the morning," Piper muttered.
"We should have just driven," Pru replied. "The car probably had a less chance of being seen than we do now."
Fortunately, they made it back to the VW without being seen. They hefted the stone into the backseat before driving to a secluded part of the forest. There, the two women probably had a little too much fun smashing the stone into a powder. After a couple of handfuls of salt tossed in the bag and a nice soaking of gasoline, Piper dropped a lit match on the bag and it went up in flames.
"There's nothing that can't be solved with fire," Pru said happily, then added, "Or hugs."
"Mm-hm," Piper agreed. "Oh, hey, did Mrs. Gerard mention anything about talking to an EPA guy?"
"Yeah, actually, she did," Piper replied. "Which is kinda odd since the girl I talked to said they weren't investigating."
"I thought so, too," Piper said. "Kaylie said she talked to one, and Emery's girlfriend and sister spoke with two who asked questions a lot like ours. You think someone else might be investigating the deaths?"
Pru frowned. "Maybe. Two supernatural evils in this town, might have attracted two different hunters."
"That gets me, too. Le Lutin and this crazy spirit at the same time?" Piper asked.
"I know. What's up with this town?" Pru shook her head. "Well, if someone else is working this, we'll probably run into them soon."
"Yeah," Piper agreed, then the two fell silent to watch the fire burn itself out.
"All right," Pru said after the last of the flames had died. "Let's go get Paige and Phoebe."
Wednesday morning Dean and Sam slept in a bit. With their hunt done, they were free to catch up on some rest before moving on. Sam was normally an early riser, though, and he wasn't tired enough to keep his internal clock from waking him a little after ten. Dean was still sleeping, so Sam quietly pulled on a pair of jeans and a green hoodie and headed out to take advantage of the last half hour or so of free food.
He combed his fingers through his hair as he walked across the parking lot, enjoying the cool morning breeze. The door to the breakfast room was open, and as he headed closer he could smell bacon and those muffin things Dean seemed to love. Sam should probably grab his brother some of those, if only because Dean was likely to kill him if he didn't.
Sam was a few feet away from the breakfast room when the two women exiting it made him stop in his tracks. It was Piper and Pru, both carrying plates of food and showing up in one of the last places he had expected them to be. The logical part of his brain said it made sense. After all, this was the motel closest to the bar they had wanted to be dropped off at. But still, he couldn't help being suspicious.
"No way," Piper said as they spotted him and stopped. "You're staying here?"
"Looks that way," Sam replied. "It was the closest motel to that bar."
"Yeah, that's why we picked the bar. Close enough to walk but not let you know where we were staying," Pru said, then grinned. "Of course, we didn't expect you to follow us over."
"Not me," Sam told her. "Dean's more the creepy stalker type."
"Or maybe we're really the ones stalking you," Piper teased.
Despite the fact that it was obviously a joke, Sam's suspicions deepened for a moment. It must have shown on his face or something, or maybe Pru was just worried he'd take it seriously, because she hastily said, "She's joking. We really don't randomly stalk people."
She seemed sincere, and Sam had to admit there didn't seem to be anything bad about the two of them. He still thought they were weird, but he didn't feel as if he was in any danger. His instincts said there was nothing to worry about. Except that thing he sometimes did around women where he had no idea what to say.
He smiled kind of nervously. "I know. I was just surprised. Because we keep running into each other and…Are the muffins any good today?" He asked, gesturing to the plate of the baked goods that Piper was carrying.
"They're great," Piper said with a grin. "Can't say the same about the co-"
"Pru! Piper!" A female voice yelled from somewhere back in the rows of rooms.
"We're coming!" Piper shouted back.
"Well, hurry up!" the woman called. "Or we're taking the car and leaving!"
"We have the keys!" Piper yelled, while Sam looked over at Pru.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"That would be our sister," Pru said.
"I don't care!" the woman shouted. "I'll hotwire it!"
"You don't know how!" Piper replied.
"Phoebe?" Sam guessed.
"Uh, no, Paige," Pru said.
"How many sisters do you have?" Sam asked.
"Just three," Pru replied. "Piper, Phoebe, and Paige. And, uh, me."
"I've watch you two do it, I can figure it out!" Paige yelled. "And it won't be my fault if your car gets damaged! Should have moved your asses!"
"Thank you for shouting that across the parking lot!" Pru yelled back.
"You're welcome! Now let's go!" Paige said, followed by the sound of the door slamming.
"I bet they're not really even done getting ready," Piper grumbled.
"Yeah, well, we better get going, or she might actually try to hotwire my car," Pru said. "See you around, Sam."
"Later," Piper told him.
"Bye," Sam said as they walked off towards the rooms. He turned away and headed into the breakfast room. After eating his fill, although at a quicker place than he would have liked, since the free breakfast ended at 11:00, Sam piled muffins high on one plate and bacon and eggs on another. Then he went back to their room, balancing the bacon and egg plate in the crook of his arm so he could open the door. He had expected Dean to still be sleeping, but his brother's bed was empty and the shower was going behind the bathroom door.
"You're awake?" Sam asked.
"Apparently!" Dean called back. "Some chick was shouting about hotwiring cars." The shower stopped. "Did I miss breakfast?"
"Yeah," Sam replied as Dean came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. "But I got you some."
Dean's eyes lit up when he saw the muffins. "Dude. You're the best."
"It takes so little to make you happy," Sam said, pretending Dean's kid-at-Christmas expression didn't at all make him happy or put him in a good mood.
Dean grinned at him through the two or three muffins he had shoved in his mouth. "Thanks Sammy."
"You're welcome." Sam told him as he flopped down on his bed and reached for his laptop. "Put some clothes on, will you?"
Dean mumbled something and pulled on boxers and a pair of jeans, all one-handed and still eating muffins.
"Oh," Sam said. "Guess who I saw?"
"Celine Dion, and you exchanged beauty tips," Dean said.
Sam rolled his eyes. "No. Your spirits. They're here, that was their sister yelling at them about the car."
"Seriously? What room?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know."
Dean stared at him. "You didn't ask? Geez." He shook his head. "Well, at least this works out. We have a free night and I don't even have to think about what motel I'll end up at."
"Classy," Sam commented.
Dean's response was to make a face at him and pick up a piece of bacon. Which he promptly dropped to reach for his gun, giving a yelp of surprise as Jean came bursting through the closed door.
"Damn it!" Dean cursed, moving his hand away from the gun and stooping to collect his fallen bacon. "Don't do that! Give me a freaking heart attack."
"Have you read the news today?" Jean asked, looking shaken.
"No," Dean replied. "Why are you still here, anyway?"
Sam frowned. "Jean, what's wrong?"
"Someone else died last night," Jean said, nervously pacing a few steps. "I thought – I thought what you did was supposed to stop it."
"It was," Dean said. "She must be attaching to something else."
"The stone," Sam said. "That's the reason she's here, isn't it? To keep you from getting it?"
"Shit," Dean swore, kicking the leg of the table and causing it to shake slightly. "Why the hell didn't we think of that last night?" Without waiting for a response, he turned on Jean. "You know where she's keeping it?"
"Don't you think I looked? That if I knew where it was, I'd know where she was and I'd be there talking to her instead of here?" Jean demanded.
"We'll just have to do more research," Sam said quickly. "Dean, maybe you could go to the library and pick up some books? I'll try researching online."
"Do you mind if I stay and help?" Jean asked.
Dean scowled, obviously unwilling to leave Sam alone with Jean. "If you're going to help anyone, come with me and give me your input on the books," he said reluctantly.
"All right," Jean complied. "Lead the way."
"We'll be right back," Dean told Sam. "Don't touch my muffins."
Author's Note: Once again, I own nothing. The lyrics at the beginning of this chapter are from Live Wire by AC/DC, and the song on the radio that Pru sings along with is Pink Floyd's Learning to Fly.